The Last Time I Loved You Chapter 08
Chapter 8 The Price of Redemption
“Julian, she really is your mother, and she’s already agreed to our marriage. What she did back then was unforgivable, but since fate brought the two of you back together, it means the bond between mother and son was never truly broken…”
The woman quickly chimed in. “Yes, yes I’m very happy with Luna as my daughter-in-law. She truly loves you. I came back this time because of your marriage…
As she spoke, she forcibly grabbed my hand and placed it into Luna’s.
A shudder ran through my body. Nausea rose in my throat. “Let go of me. Get out!”
A doctor rushed into the room, pulled Luna away, and stepped in front of me. “Are you all right?”
I shook my head.
Claire Bennett was a world-renowned cardiac surgeon I had hired at great expense. She was also my partner in developing
artificial hearts.
Luna panicked. Like a dying stray dog clinging to its last breath, she struggled across the floor toward me.
“Who is she? Are you… together now? I won’t allow it. No one can take Julian away from me!”
Luna had long suffered from severe psychological issues, while Claire practically lived in the gym.
The fight barely lasted a moment.
Luna ended up disheveled and collapsed on the floor. An asthma attack left her gasping for air. Dust and blood smeared her face, leaving her in a pitiful state.
As Claire and I left, I caught a glimpse of Luna’s eyes. They were clouded with pain and overwhelming regret.
Recently, a large number of patients had begun scheduling artificial-heart surgeries.
The receptionist told me it was because of a press conference held by the Sterling Group.
I opened the video and saw Luna standing before dozens of cameras, enthusiastically promoting the benefits of artificial hearts. She claimed to be one of the procedure’s success stories.
At the end of the video, a faint smile appeared on her icy face.
“Anyone suffering from heart disease like me can choose the artificial heart developed with Dr. Prescott’s participation. Julian, 1 hope I can make things right…”
The receptionist whispered excitedly, “Ms. Sterling has practically been advertising our hospital for free. Business has skyrocketed these past few days.”
I immediately reprimanded her.
Medical projects existed to save lives, not to become tools for hospitals to make money.
The receptionist stuck out her tongue before adding that many of the patients seeking consultations had their expenses covered by the Sterling Group.
Some of them only had minor heart conditions and did not need heart replacement surgery at all.
Not only did that waste valuable medical resources, but it also robbed genuinely critical patients of their chance to survive.
This was sheer recklessness with other people’s lives.
I was preparing to confront Luna when I ran straight into that woman.
“Dr Prescott! Everyone says your medical skills are extraordinary. My son was born with a congenital heart condition, and I was hoping-”
“If you need treatment, register and see a doctor. I’m off duty.” I cut her off coldly before she could finish.
“Julian! Do I have to get on my knees and beg you? What exactly are you so proud of? Saving lives is a doctor’s duty. Besides, he’s your biological brother. Are you really going to let him die?”
That reminded me of something.
“Take a DNA test. If you truly are my biological mother, then he can be proven to be my brother.”
The DNA test would also prove that abandoning me years ago was a fact.
The woman was eager to establish a blood relationship between her son and me, so she happily cooperated.
Not long afterward, the deputy director called. Luna’s artificial heart was malfunctioning.
He also informed me that Luna refused treatment from anyone except me and would not cooperate with other medical staff.
Without hesitation, I rejected his request. “Our hospital’s cardiac surgeons are among the best. Of course, we should also respect the patient’s wishes. If she wants to refuse treatment, notify her family.”
Immediately, Luna’s heart-wrenching cries came through the phone. “Julian! I feel like I’m dying! I want to see you one last time! Please… Just let me look at you from a distance…”
The sound made my stomach churn. I hung up.
Luna had no respect for the value of life. She treated both her own life and the lives of others as if they were worthless.
The Julian of the past could never bear to watch the vitality drain from Luna’s pale face. He had given her ninety-nine heart transplants. Yet she treated life with such contempt.
Again and again, she committed suicide and survived, only to destroy that precious heart with her own hands.
The DNA results arrived. Ruby Foster was indeed my biological mother.
“Well? What do you have to say now? He really is your brother. Hurry up and arrange his surgery!”
I could not even be bothered pretending to be polite.
“Yes, he’s my biological brother.” I looked directly at her. “Tell me, if I lose emotional control during surgery and accidentally cut the wrong blood vessel, that would be understandable, wouldn’t it?”
“You… You wouldn’t dare!”
Whether I would or not was something she would never find out. With undeniable evidence in hand, I reported her to the police for child abandonment.
Leaving an infant inside a garbage dumpster, where discovery was highly unlikely, constituted attempted murder.
Ruby was sentenced to life imprisonment. Her son, having lost his legal guardian, was deported back to his home country.
After settling those matters, I devoted myself to developing the next generation of artificial hearts with my colleagues.
During that time, Luna called me countless times. Every call was blocked.
Then one day, a nurse making her rounds found Luna lying in a pool of blood. She had already stopped breathing.
By the time I arrived, several nurses had been so horrified by the scene that they were throwing up.
Luna’s chest had been cut open with a sharp instrument. Blood and torn flesh covered the wound. She had passed out from the
agany and bled to death.
On the cabinet beside her hospital bed sat ninety-nine apology letters and a suicide note, arranged in perfect order.
In her suicide note, she wrote that she had taken her own life of her own free will and that the hospital bore no responsibility. At the end of the ninety-ninth apology letter, she had written, “This heart was your creation. I’m giving it back to you. Can you forgive me now?”
Years later, when the next generation of artificial hearts was successfully introduced, I became the first physician in the country to receive the most prestigious prize in medicine.
Whenever the spring breeze brushed past, I would occasionally think of that girl with skin so pale it was nearly translucent.
“Julian, what does the world look like?”
Years later, her words still lingered in my memory.
“Julian, it turns out the world looked exactly like you.”
